


Lazy Morning

by Raepocalypse



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Lazy Mornings, Lazy Sex, M/M, McHanzo - Freeform, McHanzo Week, McHanzo Week 2016, Messy, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, literally just smut, not really somnophilia if they're both awake right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8942890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raepocalypse/pseuds/Raepocalypse
Summary: Back from a long mission, Jesse is determined not to let his dragon man out of bed. The best way to do that is to exhaust him before he can finish waking up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't uploaded anything to this account yet at all, but I figure McHanzo week is as good a time as any to go ahead and do it. This is literally just a little bit of shameless smut and it's fluffy and short, but here you have it. It makes me happy and I hope it makes you happy. 
> 
> Not Beta'd

Hanzo woke to the touch of lips on his inked skin. This was not the first time he'd woken this way. This wasn't the first time this _month_ he had woken this way. There was nothing special about it anymore.  
It still brought a curl of a smile to his lips.  
Nevertheless, he let out a sleepy grumble and turned his head toward the rough scratch of stubble traveling up his arm.  
“Mornin’, darlin’,” McCree rumbled. His head lifted to steal a kiss on half-open lips.  
“What is the time?” Hanzo replied.   
McCree moved back to his task before of laying sweet kisses over his tattoo. The arm around his waist tightened and pulled him closer. “Don't matter what time it is. You just got back to me. I ain't lettin’ you out of bed before ten today.”  
The archer sighed and it didn't sound as put-upon as he wanted. Almost fond. “I was gone for three days,” he argued.  
“Mmhm.” McCree shifted a little, slotted their bodies together like puzzle pieces. He was half hard already, like he seemed to be almost every morning, and he pressed that between Hanzos cheeks. “Three days you been gone and three nights I had to sleep all by myself. Three days I ain't kissed you. Gimme just a little time ‘fore I gotta share you again, sugar.” A soft kiss to his neck, warm and wet as his tongue teased a little.   
That was not something Hanzo knew how to argue with. McCree knew that. He always did. That was why he knew just what to do. He didn't even have to say please.   
Hanzo sighed again and nodded. He could practically feel the grin on a face he couldn't even see. He could certainly feel the way that tiny confirmation made his cowboy twitch with excitement against him.  
A soft rock of the hips slotted them a little closer together, pressed McCree right against his entrance.   
“Gonna give you a proper good mornin’, dragon man,” the cowboy rumbled. His hand slid down, ghosting over his skin until it reached its prize. His rough palm closed around Hanzo's cock and started to stroke, slow and easy. He was still dry, but he was moving carefully enough that it was still alright. Slow kisses gained heat on his neck, tongue starting to tease at his skin. There were times for rough and times for bites and early morning wasn't one of them.   
Sometimes, Hanzo flipped them over and took what he wanted. Sometimes McCree rode him until they were both screaming. But right after Hanzo came back from a mission and McCree kept them in bed, those were the times where they stayed slotted together, smooth and slow. The cowboy learned some time ago that Hanzo was predisposed to staying late in bed if he could exhaust him without ever letting him wake up completely. That was today's plan, to be sure.  
The gentle thrusts continued, hand pulling slow and careful. No rush. Nothing to hurry them along. Near death missions brought them back together in a mess of flushed skin and sweat, needy whispers and rushed clashes of lips and teeth. There had been no such fear lingering on his skin after this mission, only the exhaustion that sagged in Hanzo’s muscles and the tension that drew McCree’s taut. The lazy way they rocked together helped soothe both of them just as they needed.   
When he shifted to reach out, rolling toward the side of the bed, there was no resistance. It was an old ritual, months in the making. Hanzo wouldn’t dare to disrupt it by pulling away to leave. Instead, he reached into the bedside drawer for the lube when the rough, dry hand on his sensitive skin got to be a little too much for him, when he knew he was getting ready for more than the tease of heat between his cheeks.   
Jesse didn’t try to hold onto him. He allowed his hands to stroke over strong hips, rubbing soothing circles into the skin with his thumbs. Once the prize was in hand, they were back together again, back to front with Jesse swipin hair out of the way so he could kiss his favorite places on the expanse of pale skin.   
“This okay, baby?” he asked softly, rolling his hips forward. Sometimes, it wasn’t. Jesse seemed alright to flip either way when he was inclined, but Hanzo was a little more particular. Suiting his needs tended to be top priority if the cowboy wanted to get anywhere at all.   
Hanzo hummed softly, tilting his head invitingly and arching a little when the invitation was taken in the form of a new mark blossoming behind his ear. “Just like this. Give me your hand.” He still felt woozy, half awake as he popped the cap off of the slick and drizzled it onto the offered hand, spilling on the bedsheets. They’d need to change them later anyway.  
The fingers slipped together, warming slightly before he hiked Hanzo’s leg up and hooked it over his knee to keep it up. Warm, wet fingers started question for sweetness between them and found it with practiced ease.   
As with every lazy morning spent together, Hanzo needed to do nothing. He was awake enough to participate, and that was about it. That was how Jesse wanted it. Don’t wake him up completely, don’t let him wake up completely. Drain him down before he’s up and he’ll stay a little longer before the day really starts. Carefully lazy mornings were the only way to coax a lazy day out of his man.   
Calloused fingers teased at the soft pucker of his hole and coaxed a soft groan out of the man pressed to his chest. Soft lips found Hanzo’s jaw and kissed a sweet line up to his mouth. He encouraged him to turn gently until they could kiss properly while the fingers worked their way into him. First one, pumping gently and stroking his walls with as much care as they had in them. Then a second, when that one had made itself at home.   
Sweat was starting to form on Hanzo’s skin, eyes closed again, but not softly this time. His mouth hung open as the kiss ended, breathing the warm air heavily. It smelled like Jesse, tasted like home on his tongue as he was worked open gently.   
A third finger started to press in with the other two, gentle. Soft. Careful not to overwhelm his lover in the soft light that was streaking in through the curtains. “Beautiful,” Jesse whispered against the shell of his ear. “You’re so beautiful, Hanzo. Gorgeous man o’mine. Make you feel so good.” The tips of his fingers slid against the bundle of sensitive nerves and Hanzo cried out, bucking against his hand. “That’s it, baby. Let it out. Wanna hear you.” Another cry as he stroked over his prostate again, but then the fingers were gone and Hanzo was left feeling empty. His breath came in soft pants, eyes opening halfway to look back at the cowboy behind him.   
He looked just as debauched as Hanzo felt, thank the heavens. Bitten lips slick with spit and eyes dark as they watched him.   
The cool metal hand slid along his thigh again, bringing it up higher as McCree shifted closer and prodded gently at his entrance. Too big, as always, but somehow comfortably so. Hanzo didn’t think he’d ever be satisfied by someone again now that he was used to the way he stretched and burned around him.   
They groaned together as he pressed his way in. Hanzo’s head tilted and it was more than enough of a command to have Jesse finding his lips instantly. Their tongues dragged together, slow and aimless. There was no fight for dominance. They didn’t need to, not on a morning like today. Jesse might be orchestrating the movements, and be in it as a means to an end, but it was Hanzo who held all the power in this coupling.   
It took a few moments for Jesse to bottom out and once he did, it was a few more moments before either of them wanted to move again at all. There was something glorious about the way they slotted together, their hips flushed and Hanzo’s back curved against Jesse’s chest and stomach. There was prep, and a stretch, but it felt like puzzle pieces slotting together. Like a plug in a socket. A perfect fit that electrified them both.   
“Jesse,” Hanzo sighed, nudging at his jaw lightly.   
It was little more than a sleepy, pleased sound, but it was enough of a cue to have the man start rolling his hips. He didn’t really ever draw out, he never really pressed in further. Just rolled their skin together and continued laying soft, wet kisses over the bare skin. His flesh hand wound around, unable to keep from squeezing one side of Hanzo’s plush chest and rolling his thumb over the nipple in time with his hips.   
“My baby,” Jesse started again, voice tight. He never did shut up, but Hanzo had long gotten used to that. Moreover, it was something he looked forward to now. Three days apart and he missed the drawl of that rough voice. Not that he would ever say such a thing out loud.  
If not for the fact that his lips were pressed right to his ear, chest to his back where he could feel the rumble of his voice, Hanzo might not even have heard him over the panting in the air and the heavy beat of his heart in his ears.   
“Hanzo, fuck. Missed you. My angel. _Cariño. Mi vida._ Darlin’. Goddamn.” He wanted to move faster. Hanzo was well aware. He didn’t, though, keeping the same lazy pace he’d started with. He did nothing to urge him to go faster, either. His hips rolled, spurring him onward, without ever really speeding him up at all. The groans and moans were soft as they lifted up and filled the room.   
He should likely have warned him, but Hanzo made no move to say anything as he felt his orgasm building. Jesse could probably feel it anyway in the way his hips stuttered back against him and his breath came in faster and faster pants. Abruptly, a hand slick from preparing him before and calloused from years of firing guns wrapped around him carefully and started to work him over.  
It felt like forever they were like that together, moving around and within one another. Jesse’s mouth sliding over his skin, his voice rumbling down to Hanzo’s core. They were both sweating and flushed by the time Hanzo arched against him and spilled hot and white over the sheets and the soft warmth of his hand.   
Like a reply, Jesse followed him. The twitching muscles probably had something to do with that, but Hanzo was aware that the moan did just as much. His cowboy loved the way he sounded. He had told him often enough. They continued moving together until they were both empty, milked dry and Hanzo felt happily full and hollowed out at the same time.   
Several long moments passed in silence for the both of them, Jesses’s hand moving through the mess and smearing it along his lover’s stomach while he was tired enough not to get up and shower immediately.   
“We should clean up,” Hanzo mumbled anyway.  
Jesse nodded. “We will.”   
Neither of them moved but for the way the hand rubbed his abdomen lazily, massaging hard muscles under soft skin. Finally, Hanzo turned, grumbling as Jesse slid out of him flaccidly. The arms opened to welcome him to a new position and he laid half on top of the other’s sweaty chest.   
“We shower as soon as we get up,” he insisted.  
“We will,” Jesse promised again, shifting him closer and away from the mess they had made. “Gimme just a little while like this, baby. Wanna go to sleep again just like this, you all full’a me. Just go on back to sleep, angel.”  
One thigh came up, thrown around the cowboy’s hips and the shift made a little more of their mess drip down his thighs. “You’re filthy,” he accused, stifling a yawn.   
“Yeah. But you love me.”  
“Yes. I’m afraid I do.”


End file.
